


flaky pastry, where art thou?

by halcyonskies



Series: 100Themes: Dean/Cas [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M, sam is mentioned briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, Dean could be a lot angrier, that's for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flaky pastry, where art thou?

**Author's Note:**

> 100Themes Challenge - #98: Pie

“Did you get the pie?”

Castiel froze on the staircase. Quickly, almost frantically, he pored over everything contained in the bag in his hand, though he already knew there was no pie in it. He'd gotten everything else Dean asked for – bandages, peroxide, cotton swabs, ibuprofen, even the medication for Sam's pollen allergy. Everything, except for the pie.

How was it that pie so easily slipped from the mind?

“I take it that's a no?” Dean called dryly from the table below. His disappointment was obviously mild, as if he hadn't really expected Castiel to bring any pie in the first place, but Castiel still felt badly. He knew how much Dean enjoyed it, and it would have been no hardship to purchase some along with everything else, had he remembered.

“I'm sorry,” Castiel said miserably, hastily descending to ground level and depositing the drugstore bag on the table. “Should I go back out and get some?”

“Nah, don't bother.” Dean shrugged and flipped the book in his hands closed, throwing it up on the table. He stood and stretched, not seeming overly distressed about the pie, even though Castiel felt his guilt like a cloud hanging over them. “I'll go get dinner, give me a sec.”

It was only as Dean was walking away that Castiel noticed the smell hanging in the air, wholesome and good; his stomach grumbled, and when Dean came back with two bowls of steaming pasta he practically drooled.

“Just baked spaghetti,” Dean explained, though Castiel didn't care if it was mud as long as it tasted as good as it smelled. It was just the two of them for the time being; Sam had gone out earlier to see a girl and had yet to return (Dean had said it wasn't likely he would tonight, to which Castiel had nodded sagely).

The guilt over having forgotten Dean's pie reared its ugly head again after dinner was finished, when Castiel looked down at his dirtied plate and couldn't help but think that pie would be a lovely dessert to round off the meal they'd just eaten.

“I'm sorry I forgot the pie, Dean,” Castiel admitted forlornly as the other man gathered up their plates. To his surprise, Dean laughed, good humor plain on his face.

“Pie's not everything, Cas.” With that, Dean pressed a quick kiss to Castiel's slack lips and retreated to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Castiel felt much better about his faulty memory. 


End file.
